Pop-Up Pandemoniu
If Min Jae had known what the phrase "casual weekend event" actually meant, he never would've let Sunwoo talk him into it.
"It'll be good marketing," Sunwoo said.
"People love real-life stalls," Sunwoo said.
"We already made the banner," Sunwoo said.
That was how Min Jae found himself standing in the middle of Hongdae's weekend street market, wedged between a mobile fortune-telling booth and a guy selling light-up anime swords, surrounded by tourists, locals, foodies, and one suspicious man dressed as a medieval accountant.
His pop-up stall—technically a folding table, three crates, and Goji in sunglasses—was barely holding itself together.
The banner overhead read:
> "Snack Wizard™ – Banned in Two Worlds. Approved in This One (Maybe)."
---
Early Morning Setup
The sun had barely risen when Minji pulled up on her scooter with the goods:
Six boxes of magic ramen
Four "Glow Chews"
Twelve packs of "Mood Peanuts" (color-coded)
One floating lantern in case of emergencies
And Goji, stuffed in a crate labeled "Live Kimchi – Do Not Shake"
Seojin followed ten minutes later, lugging a handmade cash drawer and a bag full of receipts printed on slightly glowing paper.
Min Jae glanced at their setup.
"Remind me again how much of this is… legal?"
Minji shrugged. "As long as no one explodes, it's street food."
Goji sneezed. The lantern lit up on its own.
---
The Crowd Arrives
By 10 a.m., they already had a line.
The first customer was a university student who'd seen their viral glow noodle review.
She bought three packs, one for herself and two for "offering sacrifices to my professors."
Next came a father with two kids, pointing at the "Snack Witchcraft" sign.
"Do these actually glow?"
Min Jae handed them a sample and whispered, "Only during emotional moments."
The kids shrieked in delight when the peanuts turned purple after fighting over the last one.
"Dad!" one shouted. "I think I'm mad at you but I don't know why!"
Goji ate the sample display when no one was looking.
---
Influencers, Inspectors, and Instigators
Just before noon, disaster arrived in a tripod.
A popular mukbang streamer stopped in front of the stall, camera live, lips already glossed and ready.
"Ooooh, what's this?" she purred to the lens. "Is it... real magic snacks?"
Min Jae gave her the sales pitch while trying to hide the fact that Goji had just peed on the umbrella stand.
The influencer picked the "Inferno Rice Cakes."
"These better be spicy," she said.
"Technically," Min Jae replied, "they test your spirit more than your tongue."
Five bites in, she started crying, hiccuped, and declared, "This changed me as a person!"
The stream got 18,000 views in the next five minutes.
That was when a city inspector showed up.
---
Permit? What's a Permit?
He wore an orange vest, carried a clipboard, and looked like he enjoyed ruining joy.
"Permit?" he asked.
Min Jae handed him a laminated flyer titled "Definitely Not a Health Violation."
The inspector blinked.
Min Jae smiled. "We're technically a food-themed performance art piece."
Seojin slid over, holding a tablet. "He's also a registered artisan merchant under clause 6-C of the Seoul Street Fair Subsection 9."
The inspector raised an eyebrow.
Seojin added, "Would you like a complimentary rice cracker?"
The inspector sniffed, narrowed his eyes, and said, "Don't let the goat near the sink."
He walked away without another word.
Min Jae turned to Seojin.
"I have never loved you more than I do right now."
---
Lunch Hour Madness
At noon, everything exploded. Not literally—just commercially.
People flooded the booth. Tourists took selfies with Goji. Locals raved about the "mind-cleansing bubble tea" (it was really just fizzy tea with glitter).
Min Jae juggled cash, jokes, and rogue snacks.
Minji ran delivery pickups for nearby customers who'd placed online orders but "wanted the magic in person."
One older woman bought a pack of mood peanuts, then gave Min Jae a thumbs-up and said, "You're funnier than my pharmacist."
Sunwoo danced around the stall, filming everything for social media.
"Say something cool for the vlog!" he shouted.
Min Jae leaned into the camera and deadpanned, "I used to sell glowing rocks to wizards. Now I sell them to K-pop fans. Capitalism is magic."
---
Minor Magical Mishap
At exactly 2:37 p.m., a floating lantern decided to activate on its own and play the Rivertown anthem—which, unfortunately, sounded like bagpipes being eaten by a goat.
Goji leapt onto the table, headbutted the rice cracker box, and sent it into the air.
Min Jae tried to catch it, tripped over Seojin's bag of receipts, and fell backward into a rack of stickers.
Glitter exploded everywhere.
Someone clapped. Then someone else did. Soon the whole crowd applauded.
Min Jae stood up, covered in rice dust and sparkles, and raised his arms like a gymnast sticking the landing.
"That," he said, "was a scheduled demonstration."
---
A Call from Home
As the sun dipped low, and the street crowd began to thin, Min Jae's phone buzzed.
Mom.
He answered. "Hey, everything okay?"
Her voice crackled through. "Jae-ah… someone came to the chicken shop today. A fancy woman in a weird dress. She asked for 'the wizard.'"
Min Jae's heart skipped.
"She say who she was?"
"No," said his mom. "But she left a coin."
He heard the clink as she flipped it near the receiver.
Min Jae's stomach sank. That coin wasn't from Earth.
He looked at Goji, who was chewing a dropped permit.
"Guess we're not done," he muttered.